


Can You Stay?

by AndreaRyan



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: 1940s, Flashbacks, Fluff, Ill Steve, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Tiny bit of Angst, WW2, Young Love, could be canon complient if disney weren't cowards, ft. actual historical research about 1940s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:26:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24409531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaRyan/pseuds/AndreaRyan
Summary: The U.S. has officially joined the war and suddenly the distant problem isn't so distant and Steve finds himself realizing a lot of things about his best friend.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 8
Kudos: 32





	Can You Stay?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time publishing here. This story is quite dear to me and I would love to hear your thoughts, but now...enjoy!

##  **CAN YOU STAY?**

_December 8th, 1941_

'Steve!' Bucky's voice penetrated the silence of Steve's little apartment with unusual urgency. A loud set of banging on the door followed his voice like cracking of thunder.

Steve stirred in bed. His head was pounding, ears ringing, and when he stuck his leg from under the covers, he hissed. It was freezing. He reached for an old dressing gown and he wrapped his little body in it. The sleeves ended way below his fingertips and the bottom hem of the gown pooled around his feet. Careful not to step on it, he rushed to the door.

Bucky slipped inside the second Steve unlocked the door. 'Have you heard?' he blurted out instead of a greeting. 

Steve sighed and closed the door. He looked up at Bucky. His dark hair was a mess and under his opened winter coat, he could see that his shirt was buttoned wrong. He didn't even tuck it in his trousers properly and it looked as if he forgot to wear braces, too.

'What?' Steve frowned. It was Monday morning and he didn't work that day. He arrived late from the diner where he worked and he was too tired to do anything this early. All he wanted to do was go back to bed.

'The war!'

Steve smirked, rubbing his eyes. 'Is it finally over?'

Bucky's face twisted in painful grimace. He shook his head. 'No, Steve. The U.S. joined in,' he announced in soft voice and there it was.

The single sentence nearly knocked Steve on his back. It wasn't a distant problem now. It wasn't just a horror he heard about on the radio, it wasn't just photographs he saw in the paper. It was their problem now, too. It was _his_ problem.

The ringing in his ears got stronger.

'Steve?' Bucky addressed him softly. He crossed the distance between them with long steps and he put his hands on Steve's shoulders. 'Did you hear me?'

Steve nodded, examining the tips of Bucky's leather shoes.

'Can you say something?' he asked.

Steve shook his head and he jerked away from Bucky's touch. He walked over to a sofa and he sunk into it. Some of the thick fabric slipped from his legs, revealing naked skin. Steve noticed how Bucky stared at his sharp bony knees and he covered them in a swift motion. He recently lost a bit more weight and he knew it would make Bucky worried if he knew. Bucky was always worried, even when he never said it, Steve knew. They had their own silent way of communicating. 

Bucky moved slowly when he went to join Steve on the sofa.

'What now?' Steve asked after several minutes in which they sat there, not a word to be heard.

'Now?' Bucky turned his head towards Steve.

'Yes. Now. What now? What do we do? Do we join? Do we…,' he didn't finish the question he didn't know how.

'What?' Bucky flinched. His voice rose: 'Steve! Fuck. Of course not. What the hell? Is that the first thing you thought of? Sailing across the ocean and getting killed?' His fingers curled into fists and he visibly fought the urge to shake Steve's fragile body until his bones rattled.

'No!' Steve said back, much louder than he wanted. 'My first thought was: you, getting shipped across the ocean to get killed.'

'Oh,' Bucky breathed out, his shoulders loosening. He looked down and another wave of silence filled the room.

'Are you hungry?' Steve asked when he couldn't take it anymore.

'Yes,' Bucky admitted. 'I meant to bring bagels, but once I've heard…I ran straight here.'

'I'll make us some eggs. I don't have coffee, but I have chicory. Would you like some?'

Bucky nodded, even though Steve knew he didn't like chicory. Bucky's family always had coffee, real coffee. He remembered the first time Bucky made him some when they were just boys.

* * *

It was summer and Steve was sick again. His mother had to work double shift to pay his medical bills and Bucky offered to keep him company and to take care of him. Steve was fifteen at the time and Bucky just year older, though physically, their age difference appeared to be much more significant.

'I've brought you something.' Bucky reached into the pocket of his beige trousers and he pulled out a little tin can which was originally for spices. He worked the lid open and gave it to Steve who was lying in bed. He sniffed it, scrunching his nose.

'Is that coffee?' he asked Bucky who grinned at him, so proud of himself. 'Did you steal it from your parents?'

'Maybe.' Bucky shrugged. 'I am sure they won't miss it.'

'I wouldn't be so sure of that,' Steve murmured, handing the tin back to Bucky. He fell into a fit of cough less than a minute later and Bucky helped him sit up so he was in easier position. He fixed his pillow so it was propped under Steve's back and he lowered Steve back into it.

'Do you want some water?' Bucky offered when the coughing got better and Steve no longer seemed like he'd spit out his lungs.

'No,' he screeched, panting. 'I am fine.'

He was far from being fine, but Bucky didn't pester him for saying it the way he often did. 'Was the doctor here?' he asked instead, the mood getting heavier along with his voice. 

'Mhm. He thinks I should try smoking a pipe,' Steve sighed, resting his head against the iron headboard. He closed his eyes for a second, just to rest them.

'I could get you my father's old pipe. He isn't using it anymore, he has a new one,' Bucky offered immediately, making Steve chuckle.

'Is stealing your new vice?'

A faint blush overtook Bucky’s face. 'I'll make you some of that coffee, maybe it'll help.'

Steve hummed back, feeling himself drift off as Bucky got up from a chair which was always present by Steve's bed.

'Fuck,' Steve was woken up by Bucky cussing next to him. He opened his eyes slowly. There was a steaming cup of coffee on his nightstand and Bucky'd just licked his thumb to clean a stain from the cuff of his shirt.

'You should try cleaning it with soap,' Steve suggested. 'And maybe some warm water.'

'I suppose.' He sighed and left to the bathroom.

When he returned, just a few moments later, he was shirtless. He wasn't even wearing his undershirt, but Steve knew he hated them, so it didn't surprise him Bucky dropped it completely in the warm weather.

'I am letting it soak,' he explained when he sat down next to Steve again. He had gotten bigger, broader and there were undeniable forming bulks of muscle under his tanned skin. Steve forced himself not to look at him as he sat up fully on the bed.

Bucky was always the epitome of perfection in Steve's eyes and he never understood why he wasted his time with someone like him. He could be spending his summer holiday better than this. The guilt that swam to the surface of his conscience slowly twisted his stomach and tensed his heart.

Bucky handed him the coffee and Steve sniffed it again. It smelled a little better now. He took a small sip, the bitterness attacking every single of his taste-buds. He grimaced. 'Oh God.'

Bucky chuckled, watching his face carefully. 'Do you like it?'

'It's terrible,' Steve said, but he took another sip.

'I wanted to put milk in it, but it's spoiled.'

Steve nodded, swallowing the liquid. It made his stomach feel a little funny, but he kept drinking.

Halfway through the cup of coffee, Steve set it aside, frowning. 'I think I'll puke,' he whispered quickly and he felt Bucky's hands on his forearms before he was hauled up and led to the bathroom.

Steve toppled over the toilet, with Bucky still supporting him as he emptied his stomach.

'It's ok, you'll be ok,' Bucky kept repeating, drawing comforting circles over Steve's back. He only stopped for a second when he ran over his protruding spine, but the movement quickly resumed. Steve wished he could read his mind at that moment. He wasn't sure if Bucky was trying to calm himself or Steve. He sank to his knees – slowly, because Bucky still held him – and he closed his eyes when he was finished.

'Done?' Bucky enquired and Steve nodded. He helped him up again and he walked Steve over to a bathtub. He sat him on the edge and he handed him a toothbrush.

'Thanks,' Steve murmured. His skin was covered with a thin layer of sweat and his cheeks were flushed.

'Maybe the coffee wasn't the best idea,' Bucky admitted.

'Maybe,' Steve agreed, toothbrush in his mouth.

'I can run you a bath since we're here,' Bucky offered. 'You look like you could use it.'

'Sure, but you'll…,' Steve had to take a couple of breaths before he continued. 'You'll have to heat the water on the stove.'

'Ok. Are you good here?' he assured himself before he straightened from his crouch in front of the tub.

Steve nodded and Bucky patted his knee before he went to the kitchen.

It took a while before he managed to fill the tub decently and Steve stripped off his pyjamas. Bucky supported him, looking aside. This wasn't the first time, but the older they were, the stranger it was to see each other naked. It wasn't like when they went skinny dipping as children.

Steve hated that he needed help. He hated that Bucky spent his summer like this. He hated everything about the situation except for Bucky himself.

'Thanks Buck, I don't know what I would do without you.' Steve said, seated in the tub. He took a bar of soap and he started scrubbing his skin with it.

'I'm with you till the end of the line,' Bucky mused a line he told him so many times before, it started to sound cheesy. 'Do you want me to leave now?' he asked as little bubbles formed on Steve's skin. It wasn't like he could be of help now. Steve was weak and dizzy, but he could wash his hair on his own. They both knew it.

Steve looked up at him. 'No, can you…can you stay?'

Bucky knelt down next to the tub, smiling. 'Of course, I can stay.'

* * *

They sat at the dining table in silence, eating eggs and toasted stale bread. Bucky pulled out a cigarette from the pocket of his trousers and he lit it up. Steve watched his fingers carefully. Bucky had gorgeous hands. Strong with long fingers, not as bony as his.

He took another hesitant bite of his toast as Bucky blew out some smoke. It hung above them, slowly fading in the badly ventilated apartment, leaving behind a familiar smell.

Steve watched his lips then. He felt hyper-aware of Bucky's appearance as they sat there. It suddenly seemed much more important than ever before and his affection for him grew into unbearable limits since he broke the news. It was so strong, Steve thought it might tear him apart.

'You doing alright there, pal?' Bucky smirked, but Steve could tell his smile wasn't honest.

'Yeah,' Steve mumbled, his eyes dropping back to his eggs.

'When did you come in last night?' Bucky asked in desperate attempt to make a normal conversation. Though it felt stupid to Steve. How could anything go back to normal now? But what else could they do but to sat there and stare each other, wondering if he would ever see Bucky again. If there would be anything after this.

'Around two.'

'Are you tired?'

'Yeah.'

'Do you want to go back to bed?'

Steve looked up at him. He didn't know if it was the smoke or anything else, but Bucky's eyes were glazed over with forming tears.

'I don't know if I can go back to sleep now,' he admitted.

'Do you want me gone?' He moved to stand up, but Steve's hand shoot up and grasped Bucky's wrist. They both froze, but then Steve's hand slid down, his fingers caressing Bucky's palm.

'Can you stay?'


End file.
